


What If

by mfleur



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Cleganebowl, Crack, Fix-It, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Tower of Joy, copious use of the F-word
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfleur/pseuds/mfleur
Summary: What if Arthur let Ned into the Tower of Joy?What if Ned demanded a trial by combat?Canon is  re-written.-[Re-write of a collection of crack fics I wrote long ago on FanFiction.Net under a different username.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Arthur Dayne Saves the Day**

“Where’s my sister?” Young Ned Stark demanded, while his Northern posse stood behind him, sweating under the unfamiliar Dornish sun, their swords drawn and ready.

The situation really wasn’t helped by the sudden wail of pain that came from the tower.

Gerold Hightower moved forward, drawing his sword while Whent followed his movements. Arthur remembered that their instructions from Rhaegar were to keep Lyanna safe…

_So why were they stopping Lyanna’s brother from seeing her?_

It totally made no sense, and besides, perhaps childbirth would hurt even less if Lyanna had her brother by his side as she delivered Rhaegar’s glorious newborn. What a splendid idea!

“Yeah, she’s in that tower behind us,” Arthur replied, “Congratulations! You’re going to be an uncle!”

“Arthur,” Gerald sighed, speaking slowly to the overgrown man-child, “we’re meant to be –“

“Protecting Lyanna, so why would her brother want to kill her?” Arthur replied. His sword was already back in his sheath, and he was now taking out his Special Edition Dance of Dragons Colouring Book with the new crayons Ashara got for him. Owell Whent grunted in agreement, and let the Northmen pass.

“Thank fucking gods, finally someone with some fucking common sense!” Ned shrieked as he hobbled in his heavy armour as fast as he could towards the tower.

“Wait, you do have a maester with Lyanna, since she’s giving birth and Rhaegar wanted you to protect her?” Howland Reed asked with a frown.

“Nah, just some exotic dancer from the nearby marketplace who said she’s watched a nurse deliver a babe before,” Arthur replied, now seated on the sand and colouring Nettles.

“What the fuck Arthur?!” Ned screamed.

Howland Reed and Gerold Hightower quickly jumped onto their horses, and galloped away to the nearest settlement, while everyone else followed Ned up the tower of Joy, wincing whenever they heard Lyanna’s wails.

Ned nearly sobbed upon seeing Lyanna alive, but clearly in pain and covered in a sheen of sweat that a handsome Dornish woman was trying to wipe away without avail.

“Oh, Ned,” Lyanna sighed as her brother hugged her tightly, “Where’s Rhaegar?”

“That dipshit kidnapped you!”

“No, we ran away, silly – _oh!_ , why does childbirth _hurt_..?!”

Ned let go of Lyanna and stared at her. His face went red, his large hands clenched themselves shut, a vein was now popping out of his forehead and his grey eyes became colder than North of the Wall.

The Kingsguard and Northmen squirmed, and Ser Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning, was so terrified that he hid his face behind his colouring book.

**_“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK LYANNA?!”_ **

Lyanna’s eyes widened, while the Dornish “nurse” looked outraged.

“Ser,” the woman started, “your sister is bearing a child! Leave your grievances until -,”

“ ** _You fucking ran off without a word, and Brandon and Father were fucking killed for demanding you back from that albino shit!”_** Ned screamed, waving Ice around while all the men in the room ducked and retreated into a corner.

“Ned, I –“ Lyanna had tears in her eyes, from both the pain of her contractions and his words.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” screamed the Dornish women, gathering all the men to the door, “Childbirth is hard!”

“ ** _Shut the fuck up you Dornish thot,”_** Ned spat, while Whent sighed and covered Arthur’s ears, because the Dornishman was crying due to all this swearing and casual racism.

"Go stuff a unseasoned potato up your pale arse, you filthy Northern –"

 **“ _Father was boiled in his armour! Brandon was fucking strangled while watching that!_** ” Ned continued, now ignoring the Dornish woman completely and staring down at a terrified Lyanna instead.

 **_“Thousands died, lost their homes, their food, their family! King’s Landing was sacked_ ** _! **”**_

Gerold Hightower and Howland Reed had now returned with a maester, who along with the Kingsguard looked very alarmed by this news of King’s Landing’s fall.

‘ _If King’s Landing has fallen_ ’ Gerold Hightower realised, his thoughts went did not go to his King, ‘ _that means the Queen and the princesses…_ ’

**“ _Princess Elia – you know, Rhaegar’s fucking WIFE - was raped and ripped into two! Her babes were slashed and stabbed!_ ”**

“YOU WHORE!” the Dornish maid screamed, before wrapping her hands around Lyanna’s throat. The poor girl was choking, but also had tears in her eyes, due to both the pain and genuine remorse for her actions. 

Howland Reed, who already wasn’t the tallest or most buff guy in the block, tried to hold the mad woman back while silently vowing to stay away from Dornish girls. Ned was still swearing under his breath, but had now taken over from the nurse and was rubbing Lyanna’s heated skin with wet towels.

“Okay, everyone out!” the maester said, pushing the Northern company and the Kingsguard out of the room after Howland dragged the Dornish woman down the stairs. Arthur Dayne was sobbing and clutching his colouring book tightly, while Oswald Whent tried to comfort him and hug him in the most manly way possible.

“So…,” Howland Reed approached Gerold, after tying the vengeful Dornish woman to the biggest horse he could find, “What now?”

**_“YOU’RE NOT NAMING THE BABY FUCKING AEGON!”_ **

Ned’s voice could still be heard from the tower.

* * *

Arthur returned to Starfall, shocked when he saw Ashara about to jump from her tower.

“Ashara! Get down now! It doesn’t matter if you had a babe out of wedlock, Oswell Whent said you’re still the ‘hottest booty’ in Westeros! I don’t know what that really means, but I think it means anyone would still marry you anyway!”

“My baby is dead, Arthur, and my best friend is dead!” the beautiful woman sobbed as she stepped closer to the edge and her death.

“Don’t worry!” Arthur called from down below the tower, “I got us a _new_ baby!”

He uncovered his cloak to reveal a dark haired child, sucking on a green crayon which Arthur quickly removed from his mouth. He _did_ promise to look after Ned’s nephew.

“Arthur,” Ashara groaned, “I’ve told you before, it’s bad manners to steal someone else’s baby!”

“No, no, Ned said we can keep it and pass it as yours! Stop doing suicide and I’ll explain while we have Mama’s lemon slice.”

* * *

Ned and his Northern company didn’t bother to stop at King’s Landing, but he wrote a letter to Robert to state that Lyanna really did run away from him for Rhaegar. The king was so angry at being rejected by Lyanna for that albino hack, that Ned decided that it was best for all the Northerners to stay away from King’s Landing for some time.

Lyanna was devastated that she had to be separated from her babe, but Ashara Dayne thought it was wise to have the girl stay away from the babe and Dorne for a few years, or at least until people became convinced that baby Jon was Ashara’s son.

Ned told Ashara flatly that Lyanna was grounded for the rest of her life, so she’d have to come North with Jon instead.

Meanwhile, Gerold, Owell and Arthur returned to King’s Landing and bent the knee to Robert, who grudgingly accepted the men as his Kingsguard because he’d be crazy not to.

In fact, when Gregor Clegane’s trial by combat for Princess Elia’s murder came, Arthur defeated him with his sword ***Dawn***, and gladly escorted the Mountain's ugly head back to Sunspear, surrounded by cheering crowds who threw purple flowers and crayons in his direction.

Prince Oberyn sobbed and declared a huge party where all of Westeros was invited, except the Lannisters and Baratheons and Lyanna, who was grounded. There was a huge party with drinking, dancing and merriment, and it was awesome because this is Dorne.

THE END 😊


	2. Ned Demands A Trial by Combat

“Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

The crowd exploded, Sansa was being held back as she screamed, and Ned saw terror in a devastatingly familiar pair of eyes hidden amongst the crowd.

“WAIT!” Ned cried, “My confession's fake! I demand a trial by combat!”

* * *

Sansa was crying in the corner of Ned’s black cell, while Arya, who had decided to run back to her father immediately after seeing Ilyn Payne raise his sword, was there as well screaming.

“Father, what will we do! The Lannisters have the Mountain, and you’re going to be killed!”

“Girls, that’s fine! Even if I die and you’re imprisoned, at least I had the opportunity to tell you not to trust Peter fucking Baelish!”

“But Ser Baelish is Mother’s friend!” Sansa cried.

“Only because he’s been obsessed with her since forever and was angry at my brother for giving him an arse whooping!” Ned spat.

“And the way he looks at your underage body, darling!” exclaimed Varys as he slid into the cell, wearing fabulous topaz roves, “he’s fixated on anything with a passing resemblance to Lady Stark.”

“Varys,” Ned grunted, “why should I trust you?”

“Not everyone in King’s Landing wishes you ill, Lord Stark,” Varys replied, “but I’ve brought you a champion who may be able to take on the Mountain.”

Ned, Arya and Sansa all looked up to see the face of the hulking figure who entered the cell, and their mouths dropped open.

* * *

“AAAAND TODAY’S THE DAY OF THE RUMBLE!” Pycelle yelled on the microphone as the crowd cheered in response.

“What!” Joffrey screamed in outrage to his Ilyn Payne, “Pycelle was meant to be a frail old imbecile!”

Tywin had thankfully returned to King’s Landing just in time to see his imbecile of a grandson nearly cock things up by killing Ned Stark, who at least had the brains to retract his confession and demand a trial. Even if Joffrey wanted to kill Stark immediately, the boy’s penchant for protracted violence and bloodshed had made him want to see the Mountain killing Stark’s champion more.

Tywin sat to his second least favorite child, who was swallowing down copious amounts of wine with a bored expression on her face, and seated with the king in a grand stand bedecked in red and gold.

Stark and his two daughters were all pale, sullen and seated on another stand. There was also a mad-eyed Oberyn Martell seated with Wilas Tyrell and his intrigued grandmother, that hag Olenna. Tywin also sneered at the crowds of excited commoners on stands, buzzing with excitement as bets were sold and popcorn was thrown around.

“ _I say Clegane, you say bowl_!” Pycelle said to the cheering audience as Joffrey scowled once more, “CLEGANE!”

“BOWL!”

“CLEGANE!”

“BOWL!”

The Hound entered the arena to roaring crowds singing "Who Let the Dogs Out".

As Sandor Clegane entered the stadiums to cheers (and crowds full of people who bet against him), he passed the Stark stand, where Ned passed him his family’s greatsword ***Ice***.

The Mountain then entered the grounds, but everyone was scared shitless and chose to stay silent, except for Oberyn obviously.

_“You raped her, you murdered her, you killed her children!"_

“AAAND BEGIN!” Pycelle screamed as bells rang.

* * *

The Hound finally stopped getting up from the ground.

The brawl had gone on for an age, and it was almost sunset. The two warriors stabbed, ducked, punched and kicked each other hard, but the Mountain was bigger and rougher, and hit his brother a lot more. Tywin was personally impressed that the Hound had lasted so long, but all men must die, and this tale of sibling rivalry was about to end now.

The Mountain walked towards his brother’s limp form and raised his gigantic sword…

Joffrey was practically cackling with glee, Cersei looked bored and just kept drinking, Martell was screaming and being held back by limpy Tyrell, while Stark held his two young daughters close to his chest, his face broken.

Bran, Rickon and Hodor, safe in Winterfell, were logged onto ThroneBook and watching the livestream with horror.

“Hodor, hodor, hodor!” Hodor cried in distress.

“Bran, you have to do something!” little Rickon pleaded.

“I’m onto it,” said Bran, going into the Avatar State – ahem, I meant he warged and –

The Mountain paused for a moment, and then dropped his sword.

Tywin and Ned frowned, while Joffrey screamed at Gregor Clegane to hurry up and kill the Stark champion as the rest of the audience looked down in confusion.

Bran looked around, freaking out when he realised that his crazy plan worked, and then wondered what he was meant to do. Should he just stand there, maybe say hello to Sansa, or maybe try some of that popcorn that seller was distributing in the stands?

Then, right next to that cunt Joffrey, he saw beauty and grace.

It was Cersei Lannister, Queen Mother of the Seven Kingdoms, the sexiest milf of them all, and a fine blonde hottie. Bran had instantly fallen in love with the Queen the first time he saw her ride into Winterfell with a husband that didn’t appreciate her. In fact, Bran had climbed that tower because he knew she was there and he wanted to impress her by reaching to the top, but then he had fallen and his memory had gotten foggy…

Well, who cares now? Bran now had two working legs once more, and the Queen looked bored  just sitting here doing nothing but drinking. So, he reached out to Cersei, had her come out of her stand and onto the ring, put the Mountain’s large hand on her waist, and began to dance. 

Bran was familiar with this Braavosi dance, a refined courtly one, and was able to lead Cersei with ease. He had been so upset when he lost the ability to walk, because Bran loved dancing and the sprightly elegance about it, and dreamed of going to Braavos or Norvos and becoming a dance master one day. However, he had never told anyone, because Father would surely be _disappointed_ that he didn’t want to be something more manly and Northern. Bran was so jealous when he heard that _Arya_ of all people got to have a Braavosi dance instructor.

Apart from Joffrey and Oberyn, everyone in the crowds and stands watched in awe as the brutish Mountain lead the Queen through a complicated dance done with so much finesse and feeling and beauty. Tywin found himself smiling and thinking about Joanna, while Ned wished that he had at least one child who could dance like this....

The crowds cheered and minstrels began to play a tune to dance to, while Cersei looked up to the Mountain’s face in shock. He held her so gently, and guided her but never pushed, and his eyes were so kind and sweet and totally not like what she expected the Mountain’s to look like.

Cersei raised her face and lips towards Bran’s, and he bent down to taste heaven itself, until –

 The Hound had stabbed the Mountain behind his back, aiming right for the neck and slicing through it clean.

Literally no one in that whole audience apart from Oberyn cheered.

* * *

Ned and his girls were free to go home after Ned swore allegiance to Joffrey in front of everyone and promised to get Robb and his glorious army out of the Lannisters’ hair.  (Secretly, Ned intened to write to Stannis the minute he fucked right out of King’s Landing and was safely locked inside Winterfell with his whole family, but that’s a story for another day.)

Ned also had to take Sandor with him North too, because _everyone_ in King’s Landing hated him now. Joffrey couldn't execute anyone now; while the rest of the city claimed that the Hound was responsible for cutting down “Westeros’ gift, a dancer for the gods, the Maiden in the flesh, my wife's very essence” (this was a tearful Tywin).

Cersei was still sobbing in her tower and drinking herself to an early grave as she cried about her “one true love” who was cut down, in between bouts of calling for Sandor’s head.

Even Sansa, despite being happy that her father lived, was still upset at the Hound for murdering such a beautiful dancer. Arya tolerated the Hound, of course, but called him “Micah’s killer”, but conceded that she needed a new teacher now that Syrio Forrel was dead (or is he??? *hehehe*).

Bran removed himself from the warg state and was now with Rickon and Hodor once more. There was a tear in his eye, because he had Cersei Lannister in his arms and she had looked at him with fondness.

💖

 

 


	3. The Author Re-Wrote Season 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is crack i wrote in 15 minutes. not my best chapter, probs a lot of mistakes but i was inspired (lmao i copied the premise) a fanfic from this site whose name i dont remember, where sansa and jorah got hitched much to dany's annoyance - but theirs was more serious and much better written. if you know whose it was, pls comment so i can credit them :))))

"So what's the death count, Ser Jorah?"

 

"Well...Lady Sansa's plan about having the women and children stay in the crypts didn't work. They are like, _quite small_ , and then the dead were resurrected and so everyone died, except Lord Tyrion, who was small enough to hide in a child's empty coffin. Missandei has also survived, as she actually picked up the knife Lady Sansa dropped and fought while the lady herself screamed and ran. Although Lady Sansa is still regrettably alive, she -"

Sansa emerged into the Great Hall with half of her face scratched, seated on a wheel chair pushed by Podrick.

"Where did they get the wheelie from?" Dany asked Jorah.

 "Probably stole it off her little brother." he replied.

"What about Jaime Lannister?" Dany asked, a scowl on her face.

"Oh yes, he and his lady love - the Lady Brienne - both fell in battle. I mean, it _would_ have been impossible for them to survive towards the end. They were practically bowled over by all those zombies against that wall....But a love like theirs - two souls, bound in life through struggle, who faced triumphs together and died together," Jorah's watery gaze went towards his Khaleesi, but Dany was too busy checking out Jon, who entered into the Great Hall to cheers.

 

"The only thing madder than a man on a dragon is a woman!" Tormund roared as he took Dany's wrist and raised it up to more cheers, "As a token of our gratitude, we wildlings want to give you our special fermented drink!" Tormund handed Dany a battered leather canteen from which she could _smell t_ he stuff. 

"KHA-LEE-SI! KHA-LEE-SI! KHA-LEE-SI!"

Dany had no trouble eating a horse heart, so she did her best, but scowled as she saw fucking _Sandra_ sip from Dany's unfinished Starbucks. 

* * *

 Dany did not forget about the Iron Fleet.

 She cackled as Rhaego burnt that fucking pirate hack's ship into the sea. With no more of those annoying spear thingies left, Dany decided that there was no point having a parlay with Cersei, and she might as well get this all over and done with.

 

She flew over King's Landing to cheers, and smiled and waved to the crowds down below, conscious that this shot of her would be going in tomorrow's paper. Arya was seated behind her on the saddle - Dany tried to get that creepy girl to smile but Arya complained about smiling being lady-like and a sexist expectation.

 "Arya, its not anti-feminist if you get rid of your resting bitch face because your Queen says so! Now smile, and stop ruining my PR program!"

 

Dany then had Drogon land on one of the Red Keep's towers, and let Arya Stark jump in through one of the windows.

 "Once the bells ring in fifteen minutes, I want Cersei fucking _dead_. I really don't want to burn down this castle, because apparently there's no gold left in the royal treasury to build a new one. And I _refuse_ to rule from Dragonstone and be near that table where Stannis and Melisandre did the dirty."

 "On it boss." said the last useful Stark.

 

Sure enough, Arya emerged fourteen minutes later with a few scratches and a bruise blooming on her left eye. But she was grinning and presented Dany with the still bleeding head of that Lannister thot.

 "That bitch had better cheekbones than me." Dany muttered.

 "Yeah, but she always drank and never moisturised, Your Grace, so her skin got saggy and wrinkly real fast. I'll send this to Sansa now, it might make her stop bitching about an independent North now that she's got all she wants."

 "Yes, yes, fine," Dany replied distractedly as she patted down her windblown hair,  "But bring the newspaper man here; but bring Missandei before him so that she can touch up my hair. Let's open the gates!"

 

* * *

Dany and Jon had the Royal Wedding of the Century.

 

It was live-streamed all over Westeros and even in all of the free cities of Essos as well. The Sept was full of shell shocked nobles, and the streets were full of common folk who were celebrating the fact that they were getting so much tourism $$$.

 

The paps went wild photographing the dragons flying overhead and Dany's ruby encrusted wedding dress. The Dothraki did an impressive dance number, and Grey Worm, Dany's Master of War, presented Missandei with a nine-carat ring and two luxury cruise tickets to Naath.

Arya also decided to propose to Gendry after a long talk with Ser Davos, but she didn't want large Southron ceremony and demanded that she keep her last name.

As for Sansa...she came in with a new wheelie, the scars on her face had healed, and she looked a little _too_ pleased.

 

Dany asked Tyrion about that at the feast, but he just shrugged his shoulders and took the arm of some brunette model and went somewhere private. At the same time, Jon finished throwing the bouquet at his friends, and there was screaming once it landed on Edd, who had given up the black now that there were no zombies anymore and opened up _Eddie's,_ the capital's hottest night club. 

 

Jon strutted over to his wife and gave her a long kiss, and they were probably going to head over towards Cersei's old chambers (they burnt the mattress though, because _no fucking thank you_ ). However, Jorah, who was pushing Sansa on her wheelie, approached them.

"Your Graces, I have some news." Sansa said as Ser Jorah smiled.

"I've spent a lot of time North, ever since you and Jon began planning your wedding so that I could become re-aquainted with my seat again, now that I'm Lord of Bear Island once more. I also spent a lot of time with Lady Stark - _Sansa_."

 "Oh my god! You two are getting married?" Jon squealed.

" _Yessss!_ ," Sansa replied, with the most saccharine smile ever, "but of course we need Your Graces permissions."

"Of course." Dany grated the answer, while Jon just squealed again and hugged Sansa while Jorah looked on with heart eyes.

"What's Brandon doing these days, Lady Stark?" Dany interrupted.

"Oh, well since he's able to tell the whole history of mankind now, Bran's decided to go to Essos and try his luck winning some money for the North through card games in Volantis. Arya told him which casino to go to, so he took a couple of Northmen and left. Bran said he may go and see if he can find some long-lost Essosi treasures too, and if that doesn't work out, he'll just blackmail the big boys of the Iron Bank with their deepest, darkest secrets -"

"Yeah, yeah, Lady Stark, how are you and Jorah going to do the dirty with you so... _incapacitated_?"

"Oh, we already did," Sansa replied brightly, "he's such a beast in bed, rawwr!"

 

Sansa and Jorah gave each other looks of adoration while Dany tried to act like everything was okay, and this was fine, and that she still had Jon, but really this was -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is crack i wrote in 15 minutes. not my best chapter, probs a lot of mistakes but i was inspired (lmao i copied) a fanfic from this site whose name i dont remember where sansa and jorah got hitched much to dany's annoyance - but there's was more serious and much better written. if you know whose it was, pls comment it :)))


End file.
